Do the butterflies sense breaks? What, My Son?

God's Boys will be good boys! Yesterday, it was a moth that was banging its head on the window of our counseling meeting. When Elyse broke her arm, it was a butterfly banging on the window at Aunt Jackie's house. She seemed to want to tell me about the break of my child's arm. Jackie, I said, why would that butterfly want to come in the house so fiercely. She didn't humor my craze, then or now. Yesterday, it was a moth. What is broken, my son? Is it heart or head? I can hear my dear departed Dr. asking pain or pressure? It is amazing how in touch creation is to the people that are around them. I want to help in the healing of the break, but I am broken myself. When I was most sensorious of my brokenness a butterfly came and sat on my shirt while I was walking. I wonder if they smell it, like a flower? Are we more humble? Are we groaning inside and calling them?